Once, I dreamed of a future. I was on a train and it was yesterday. We moved from this eye pinching light to somewhere beneath a canopy at night, a velvet plush of shadow. There was nothing like it, wild beast. Nothing.
Look at you. I watch you like a tiger and when you wake it is a welcome to my world look. There’s a cacophony now, a demented white nose machine.
Remember yesterday? We looked for each other in the wet earth beneath the canopy, among the beetles and leeches, imagining their applause.
Here is where a warning should come in, regarding the volume of the gaze––don’t. But you say it’s language you’re seeking.
I am always in these machines on wheels, looking back.
I love it when an actor looks awkward, letting you see how they are trying.
Why do you think you enjoy that?
Because it’s a little off, missing all the marks we’ve come to expect. But if you look, you can read a new rhythm.